Ride the Lightning: Prologue
by jtm1848
Summary: 14 days and counting down in the Delphic Expanse.


– PROLOGUE –

The star burned in space, nearing the end of its long, solitary existence. Its hydrogen core had long since exhausted its fuel, the simple atoms fused into helium in the great nuclear reactions that powered the ball of gas. Eons ago, gravity pulled the star inward, bringing the intermediate shells closer to the furnace, heating them precipitously and causing the massive spatial expansion that sent the photosphere outwards by a factor of 200. The rapid ballooning consumed the two inner planets, destroying a sun-burnt hunk of rock and metal and annihilating an M-class world that bore the unmistakable archeological evidence of a civilization, gone for many millennia, which had once ruled the sector with a fair and compassionate hand.

The outer planets were buffeted by the contradictory forces of the stellar explosion; the great shock wave traveling outwards fighting with the tidal forces of the star pulling inwards. The fourth planet of the system, a P-Class glaciated planet occupying the old ecosphere of the system, had for eons been little more than a hunk of ice, the frozen liquid covering over 90% of its surface. Its new angular velocity, caused by the kinetic energy of the wave, pulled it out beyond the ravenous consumption of the sun's photosphere before the gravimetric forces halted the escape. The planet found itself in the new temperate zone of the red giant, the warm embrace of the star melting the ice and converting the world into an O-class pelagic planet, covered in one large ocean.

Eons from now, the star's core would slowly contract as it slowly burned through the remaining supply of hydrogen, the increasing density generating more and more heat. Over time, the extra solar energy would evaporate the planet's great ocean and sublimate the gases into the planetary atmosphere, causing a rapid greenhouse effect and converting the world into a N-Class Venusian planet, and after another billion years or so, the last traces of atmospheric gas would bleed into the stellar void, leaving the planet as a desiccated, dead chunk of molten rock.

Time meant little in the great stellar dance, but Jonathan Archer felt every second as it ticked down to zero hour.

The Starship _Enterprise_hung on the outskirts of the Azati system, deep in the heart of the Delphic Expanse. A region of space reaching some two thousand light-years across, the Expanse was a region of spatial flux bordered by immense thermobaric clouds, discouraging outsiders from forging into its reaches. Inside, the known laws of science were challenged on a daily basis; the fabric of space-time itself was rendered, twisted almost beyond recognition. The dangers to unknowing travelers were manifest, and even the occupants of the Expanse, who had long since charted corridors between the spatial disruptions, could be caught in the ebb and flow of shifting, fluctuating anomalies. Only the intrepid dared leave the relative safety of a planet, and interstellar travel and contact were rare. Trapped in the stultifying environment, the resident species had ground to a halt, development taking a back seat to simple survival.

The crew of the _Enterprise_had cracked the code.

Located throughout the Expanse was a set of massive spheres, impenetrable to prying eyes, which bore the responsibility for the spatial flux of the Expanse. The spheres were working together to change the nature of the Expanse, make it habitable for a trans-dimensional race in desperate need of more living space. One sphere, however, bore a small crack in its shell; and once inside, the _Enterprise_crew gained access to the controlling software, allowing them to create a map of the spheres. The anomalies existed where the spatial fields intersected, and with that map, they could plot safe passage.

It had taken a far more devious piece of work to bring the _Enterprise_to Azati.

Seven months earlier, an unknown probe appeared in the skies over Earth, and shot a massive energy beam at the planet's surface, carving a giant ditch from central Florida to Venezuela. It vaporized homes, businesses, libraries and parks, and as the details slowly emerged, the death toll topped seven million. The only thing worse than the attack was the uncertainty: Who had done it? Why? Would they do it again?

An unexpected hint from a long-time foe identified a species known as the "Xindi," who occupied the Expanse. With nothing else to go on, the _Enterprise_took off in pursuit, swearing its vengeance for the millions of innocent dead back home. As the months passed, the _Enterprise_crew learned that the attack was merely a trial run; a second attack was coming, this one a weapon powerful enough to shatter Earth to its core, and their investigation lead to the shipyard constructing the weapon. Azati Prime.

"Slow us to one-quarter impulse," Captain Archer ordered. Down in the well of the bridge, the ship's navigator, Ensign Travis Mayweather, answered the command, dropping the _Enterprise_from warp velocities back into normal space. The vessel slowed to a relative crawl.

"We're in the heliosheath of the Azati system," Commander T'Pol confirmed. She sat, poised firmly, at the science station, checking the astrometric readings. As the only Vulcan on a ship of humans, she alone did not show the unmistakable signs of tension and anticipation among the crew.

"The turbulence in the solar wind matches our preliminary readings," Lieutenant Malcolm Reed reported from the tactical post. His clipped, precise language indicated his military heritage; generations of Reeds had served in Earth's navies, but Malcolm's distaste of open seas led him to a career in space.

"The turbulence should completely mask our sensor signature," T'Pol added, confirming the calculations. The Azati sun, like all others, emitted a regular stream of highly-ionized plasma particles known as solar wind. Roughly two-thirds of the way through the heliosphere, these solar winds began to collide with flows of plasma from outside the solar system, causing a region of magnetic turbulence known as the heliosheath. By hiding in the tumultuous eddies, the _Enterprise_disappeared from the view of the Xindi's relatively-weak sensor equipment like a submarine nestling in a thermal barrier.

Captain Archer arose from his command chair, stepping forward towards the main viewscreen, as if his physical proximity to the imagery would enable him to see more details against the backdrop of the red giant. "Readings on the inner planets?" he asked finally, recognizing that the ship's sensors would do a far better job than his eyes.

Despite her usual Vulcan precision, T'Pol chose to not correct the captain: the "inner" system was really the remnants of the "outer" system, the true inner portion laying within the radius of the star, but after nearly three years, she had learned that humans did not enjoy her predilection for exactitude.

"There is considerable activity around two of the inner planets," T'Pol observed, pulling the imagery up on the viewscreen. "Numerous ships. All of them appear to be Xindi." All eyes on the bridge were focused forward, where the viewer zoomed in to show dozens of stellar vessels in orbit of Azati Prime.

"I'm picking up a large array of satellites," Reed stated, cueing up a tactical overlay. "They're generating a detection grid—looks like a powerful one." The grid coverage blanketed both of the inner planets, Azati Prime and Azati II. "There's no way to get the _Enterprise_through without being detected. There's also some energy signatures that I don't recognize—could be weapons installations."

"Degra mentioned a security net," Archer mused softly, referencing the Xindi scientist that the _Enterprise_had abducted. Careful questioning, and a trust-building exercise between Archer and Degra, had resulted in a wealth of information for the Starfleet crew. "But he didn't mention this many ships."

"Their presence may not be defensive," T'Pol offered in flat, emotionless tones. "It could merely be a coincidence—they could be supply convoys, or be ferrying relief personnel."

"If they're armed, what difference does it make?" Reed muttered, loud enough to carry across the bridge. It earned him a glare from the captain.

"At least we know we're in the right place," Archer stated, silencing the speculation.

"Captain, I'm detecting movement in a cluster of Xindi ships, bearing…two-four-two-mark-one-nine by three-six-one-mark-zero-one," T'Pol reported. "They're approaching the detection grid from outside."

"On screen," Archer ordered. In front of him, the schematic of the Azati system disappeared, and was replaced with a real-time view of a flotilla of Xindi vessels. There were four: three smaller ships, cut from the same design, immediately recognizable as belonging to the primate subset of the Xindi races. The fourth, a far larger design that reminded Archer of a manta ray, belonged to the reptilian subset of Xindi. It hung suspended over the smaller three vessels, like a predator stalking its prey.

"Magnify the lead ship," Archer ordered next, and as T'Pol input the commands, the view zeroed in on the first primate ship. It was a long shot, but Archer decided to try it. "Show me the warp signature," he ordered.

No two ships have the exact same warp signature, and when the schematic appeared on the viewscreen, Archer knew that they had found their target.

Not only would they be able to destroy the weapon, but they could kill the man who had created it, the arch-murderer himself.

"Degra."

On board the Xindi-primate vessel, Degra tilted a cloudy bottle and poured a finger of fiery blue liquor into each of the three glasses before him: one for him, and one for each of his aides who were accompanying him to the construction yard that held the weapon of their salvation. The primates, as the name implied, looked largely human; but they bore prominent, jutting foreheads, wrinkled into a V, cascading downwards into a thick nose, with high, widow-peaked hair, and raised, knobby skin stretching from their temples to their cheekbones.

"It may seem odd to celebrate the completion of a weapon," Degra said as he poured the drinks, "particularly one designed to destroy an entire planet and annihilate an entire race." He finished pouring, and capped the bottle. "But recall the words of Enarchis, written some fifty years into the Great Diaspora, when the Xindi races lost our homeworld and were flung into the stars."

The two aides listened intently as Degra handed them their glasses. "'Without a world of our own we are but children lost in the wilderness,'" Degra quoted philosophically. "One day we'll emerge from this wilderness, and our work here will ensure that we'll never be lost again. By destroying the humans, we secure our future." The three Xindi raised their glasses in toast. "To a new era for all Xindi!"


End file.
